When I interviewed Marvin Miller at his New York office back in the 1960s with my late husband Harold Seymour, we were both impressed with his openness. He never dodged a question, and my transcription of the notes I took at the interview totaled ten full pages.
We were surprised that when I asked Miller whether we would be able to examine the records of the union for research on the next volume in our history of baseball for Oxford University Press, he responded that when we were ready to do so, we would find that all the union’s records would be open and available to us as historians.
Miller’s attitude contrasted starkly with that of Organized Baseball’s representatives. Commissioner Ford Frick responded to a written request for a copy of Organized Baseball’s booklet describing its player pension plan by saying that access to the information was “restricted.” He meant that we could not see it. Of course, that’s because the plan was weak. Miller, by applying his negotiating skills to the relationship of the players with Organized Baseball, completely transformed the professional game. He should certainly be represented in the Hall of Fame.